Neville's Journal
by Notherightstuff
Summary: Neville forgets his Journal somewhere in the school. Once he realizes it is missing he goes on a huge hunt to track it down; Only to see that someone has already found it and made comments of their own. AU Romance
1. Chapter 1

First: The Missing Journal

Of course, after having been given a nice leather bound journal—one which his Gran had gotten him for "expressing himself", but he was using for drawings and extra-curricular Herbology notes—Neville managed to forget it somewhere inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was horrible. At least his Journal had not been dedicated to expressing his feelings or biggest fears, because then someone from any one of the four houses could have it in their clutches just hoping to run into him and make a mockery of him. Or, they'd read it aloud in the Great Hall during a feast of all things so that the whole school could be aware of… whatever he hadn't written inside that blasted thing.

He typically kept it around in his bag for when he had spare time to go to the Green Houses and look at the fine specimens. It was there that he'd doodle out sketches of the plants and then mark or point at whichever part of the plant was dangerous or helpful. He'd list the properties and characteristics. He knew when they were ready for picking and use. All this was enough to make him groan He'd spent the better part of the summer filling it out and then the first month back at school perfecting what he'd written from memory or text books. Funny how he could remember everything in the book better than he could where he left it. Neville frowned and descended the steps into the Front Hall. There was a smattering of students talking.

He walked around them and into the Great Hall where Saturday Morning Breakfast was taking place. He slipped into a chair beside Dean Thomas who was talking to Lavender Brown, but they seemed to be arguing. He pulled a plate closer and grabbed some sausage, eggs, and a piece of toast. His goblet was filled with juice. He ate slowly and remained quiet while everyone else around him seemed too eager to yell. The only plans he had for the day was to find out what he'd done to the journal and hope that no one had taken off with it; Or, if they had, that they would give it to a teacher or someone responsible enough to return it to him. Neville flinched at the thought of Snape getting ahold of it. He would rather not have it back if such was the case. Also, if that new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher… Umbridge… If she got ahold of it, maybe she'd scold him at best.

"…But you aren't even listening."

Neville blinked and stared across from him at Seamus Finnigan. The boy's eyebrows were knit in concentration. "I'm sorry."

"You feeling alright, Neville?"

"I've lost something," Neville admitted forthright. It never did any good to hide that he was _hopeless_. At least then his friends would know why he was acting so aloof. "Have you seen my journal?"

Dean chuckled upon hearing this (after Lavender dismissed herself in a huff) and asked, "You've lost your Diary? That's tragic."

Neville frowned. "It's not a Diary. It's a journal. I've got writings and drawings on herbs and the like."

Seamus stated, "Then I wouldn't worry about anyone else finding it. If it's got nothing personal in it then stop looking so scared."

Neville mumbled, "Worrying about if someone like Snape found it. Or Umbridge."

"Tragic," Dean said again with a shake of his head.

"Thanks," Neville said as he stared back down at his half picked at meal. "I'm not so hungry anymore. I don't want to waste another second that I could be using to find my book."

Seamus and Dean both piped up about "Good Luck" and "Hope for the Best, Mate", but Neville slouched his shoulders further than he realized was possible before sulking back out into the front of the school. When he got towards the steps to the second floor he was passing Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, both in a rush and looking like they'd just woken up. Hermione had been at breakfast already, apparently not wanting to wait on her two best friends to get out of bed.

"What's got you looking so glum, Neville?" Harry asked.

"Food that bad?"

Neville shook his head. "Food's fine. Same as ever."

"Great!" Ron said before taking another step down towards the enticing fragrance of Hogwarts finest Breakfast foods.

Harry hovered back for a moment to inquire after Neville a second time. Neville shrugged and stated, "Lost my Journal. Have you seen it?" he sounded hopeful.

"Can't say I have. It's the reddish looking one you use in Herbology right?"

"That's right."

Harry's lips pursed, but only so that he could tell him he was out of luck still. However, Harry assured the boy that if he were to find such a book full of plants then he knew just who to give it to. Neville was left to pout the remainder of the way up the steps. He passed by more people who only looked at him with mild concern, but none of them asked after him. Then he got up to the twisting staircases, the ones he dreaded enough to find alternate routes that weren't as travelled and so scenic that he couldn't quite recall passing anyone on his treks. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps he'd lost it in such a corridor.

He liked to go to the corridor that looked down into The Quad where he could see the tiny students and staff walking about the courtyard. There were hardly so many students out now. It was quite early. He stepped along the corridor with no rhyme or reason to his skulking. In his mind—he ran over all the places he'd been before realizing the journal was gone. It included a vast majority of the school. He'd head had DADA, but he did not want to go to the classroom and try to crawl along the ground hoping it was inside. If he were caught then he'd definitely have a detention on his hands and it was too early in the school term to begin trouble making, at least for him. Neville much rather sit passively in the background and watch things happen around him. He probably would have noticed it if it had been inside the Great Hall. Maybe some lucky soul who needed an extra bit of help in Herbology had found his Journal. He could be some sort of unknown hero to a student in trouble! He smiled slightly. It was a nice thought, but he still wanted to have his journal back. He'd placed so much effort into fixing it just how he'd always hoped a journal could be. If he got good enough at the subject then perhaps he could publish it one day. Neville Longbottom sells millions with his astounding Journal: The thoughts on Flora from a talented youth.

He most definitely needed to find it!

By Sunday evening, Neville felt like it was a lost cause. Someone had found his journal and he had no sort of hopes on finding it. He hoped that if he begged enough then his Gran would be willing to get him a second journal. Or, he could pretend that he filled up the first one. Neville slouched against his headboard wanting to leave for one final look about the school, but it was getting late and he did not know how far he could go before cutting it close to curfew. All the other boys were out and he was alone in his musings. None of his friends had suggested that they'd seen it at all on Friday. He had continued to be asked if he was alright and would only give the solemn answer of, "Still haven't found that Journal." To them, it was just a book, but to him it was something he put so much thought into. He swatted at his curtains around his bed and turned out of the bed.

There was no need to be so grumpy about it, he tried to reason. Except, that's all he'd been doing the last two days, walking around like a lost dog expected to find his master. So, the truth was out. His journal owned him. What had gone so wrong that he felt he needed a bunch of paper stuffed and bound inside some leather casing? It was a nice looking book aesthetically speaking. Anyone would be happy to own a book like it if they had a chance. He clicked his tongue and glanced around at the empty beds.

One more turn about the area and then he'd give it up. There was no sense getting so worked up about a silly object. He knew everyone inside. While it would take time to replicate he would only learn more and become wiser in his knowledge of herbs. The Common Room was packed with students not wishing to retire, because that meant classes in the morning. The weekend would be over. Neville skittered out of the portrait in time to see Ginny Weasley entering. "Where are you off too, Nev? It's almost curfew."

"I—I just want… to take a little walk before the weekend is over."

She nodded as she approached the Portrait. "Okay, but you might want to hurry if you plan on walking. Have a good night."

"Yeah, you too."

He didn't want to admit that it was all for that journal. Neville hurried down the corridor and over towards the corridor that overlooked The Quad. It was a little eerie, since everyone was probably already in their respected dormitories. Neville wrung his hands together as he slowly stalked along the corridor he'd already visited earlier yesterday and even that very afternoon. He bit at the corner of his lip and ran his gaze along the corridor. In the corner of a window he noticed something.

There was something thin sticking out from the window's edge. He scratched the back of his neck before approaching. He hadn't noticed it before with his entire scrutinizing gaze. Sitting up against the glass to the window and barely peeking out was the reddish leather binding. Neville snatched it away and was glad that nothing had come to harm it. He opened the cover and saw his familiar handwriting. A smile spread across his face like a blazing light just turned on.

Now, with his journal procured safely under his arm, he nearly ran back to the Gryffindor house. The Fat Lady had seemed amused when he panted out the Password. The Portrait swung open and Neville stepped in feeling safe and conforted. Nothing bad had happened. Everything had gone well! It was too good to be true, he began to fear that pages would be torn out and missing. He wondered what had happened in the days since his Journal had gone missing. He went upstairs to the dorm room, where finally, the others were in their beds or getting ready to be.

He did not make eye contact and crawled back into his bed. There was not a question posed to him and for that he was utterly thankful. He drew the curtains and cast _lumos._ The book was in front of him and ready to be examined. He opened the book and witnessed the perfectly fine and intact first page again. Then he turned the page. Nothing. The third and fourth pages were fine.

It was near the very back of his notes that something was amiss. Someone else's handwriting began right where his left off. His smile faded at first glance, but then he decided to take the time to read over what had been written.

_I happened upon this little… book on the seventh floor Friday evening after my Divinations Class. I must say, you are quite an artist. Those plants seemed to grow right out of the page. I took it upon myself to steal it for the time being, but if you are reading this than I returned it unharmed. Perhaps you are not even the person who wrote this. Regardless, I used it when doing a bit of homework. Hopefully you knew what you were talking about and I get an O on my Herbology homework. So help me, if you are some fool who knows nothing then I'll find you and make sure you regret losing this little diary of yours._

There was nothing else, but Neville thought it was rather nice. Someone had actually found it and liked it. Then, they'd returned it to the corridor. He must have been gazing into the Courtyard when he placed it in the window and left. He was so thoughtless, but someone had appreciated his work and copied off of him. Neville Longbottom was not known for his academics, though almost everyone knew he favored Prof. Sprout's class over all others. Neville opened his curtain only enough to reach down and grab his bag from off the floor and pull it into the bed. He procured his quill and pulled out his ink. He slowly scrawled out

**_Thanks for… the compliment. I promise that I haven't placed anything inside this journal that I wasn't positive about. If you got anything other than an O, let me know so I can fix any mistakes on my part. And I apologize in advance. _**

Neville stared at his writing and wondered what had motivated him to reply. Would he really by willing to leave his Journal behind in hopes that the same person would happen upon it to reply? After he'd spent so long searching for it and stressing about whether someone had bothered reading it? He closed it and shoved it into the bag before deciding that he could wait till the next day before deciding if he really would leave it behind a second time—and purposely.

Φ

After dinner, Neville went up to the same corridor where he'd found his Journal. It was close to the entrance to the Divination Tower, perhaps he would have better luck getting the mysterious person to notice it if he left it on the same day that he'd left it. He walked towards the window where it had been left and stared outside. That was the plan then. Wait till Friday and place it exactly in the same window ledge. He happily made his way back to the Gryffindor tower and wrote drew a picture of an Aconite plant before scribbling out its other names and stating that it was toxic, but interestingly enough it was medicinal in many ways. First year stuff, but he didn't know what else to write. He felt like he was out to impress whoever it was that had stumbled upon his Journal. If he were not obsessing over one thing then he was over another.

By the time Friday had arrived, he managed to fill another four pages of miscellaneous plants. He was weary again. His heart pounded heavily with every step until he was at that very window again. He glanced down into the Court Yard and nodded at his slight reflection on the glass surface. He placed the book just as he'd found it and hurried from the corridor when he began to hear the sounds of students rushing out of the Divination Tower. He had half a mind to stick around to see who would notice the Journal and take it, but he was so nervous that his legs did not stop at the intersection of the corridor and he wandered all the way down to the Great Hall where Dinner would be starting soon. He'd check the window right before curfew and if it was gone then he'd return on Sunday evening.

_This might turn out interesting enough_; he began to think to himself with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2

Second: Continued Correspondence

That Sunday evening, Neville made his way to the seventh floor. His eyes landed on the very window sill that he'd willingly left his journal on. Seated up against the wall and touching the glass was the leather bound journal. He practically dashed over to grab it. It had gone missing sometime while he was attending Dinner on Friday evening. On Saturday he chanced a quick look to see if it would be back yet, but found it still missing. So, Sunday arrived and he knew he had to wait until at least after Dinner. At one point, he thought he could be so bold as to stick around and see the mysterious Commenter. He ended up staying away.

Let the whole thing be a mystery for at least a tab bit longer, Neville had told himself as he paced around the foot of his bed just before curfew. Now, he had procured it safely for a second time. He thumbed through until he was at the very end of his own section of notes to find another bit of writing very unlike his own. It was thin and sharp, but so precise.

Neville read it as he walked back towards the Portrait. He glanced up every so often to make sure he wasn't walking head first into a wall. It said:

_I will have you know that I got that O and Prof. Sprout was surprised. Not that I get… T's or anything, but I typically only do enough to get an Acceptable or E (if I try). However, I did have to manage an E in order to get into the O.W.L.s level class. After a month of getting by, she probably thought I was simply a lost cause. I don't normally spend so much time thinking about my grades. Thanks… I guess. If there is some class you need something from then some exchange might be wanted of me? Tell me what you need. Since you knew some of those things, I'm guessing you're a Sixth year? A Fifth year at the very least? _

Neville stated the Password and was admitted inside the Common Room. He hurried along the steps and towards his bed so he could reply. Seamus and Dean were working on last minute homework at the table and cried out for him to join them, but he'd shook his head and called out, "Did it earlier" before vanishing from their sight and out of earshot. Ron and Harry were inside the Fifth year boy's dormitory room. They were playing chess while Ron griped about something or other. Neville grinned in passing and crawled into bed before closing the hangings and getting his bag out.

He pressed the quill tip to the page and sucked on the end for a second before dabbing it into the inkwell and writing,

**_Glad to hear it. I wouldn't have liked to face whatever wrath awaiting a failure. I try to make sure I'm accurate. Well, I'm not atrociously bad at any particular class really… Well, perhaps Potions, but that because I'm a little… intimidated by the Professor. So, unless you can bottle some courage then I think I'm helpless. _**

**_I'm a fifth year; haven't had the misfortune of taking the O.W.L.s just yet, but I suppose that's only until the end of next term. Since, you did, I'm guessing that you're at least a Sixth year? _**

Neville closed the journal after a quick drying spell and slipped it back inside his bag. He only wished that it would not be taking a whole week before he could leave it in hopes of getting yet another response. If only he could know for sure that no one else would take it in the other days of the week. Also, what were the chances of his Mysterious Reader coming to the seventh corridor outside of having Divinations?

He dropped his bag outside of his curtain and lay back against his pillow. He might possibly have a friend on his hands. There was a happiness that crept along behind this realization. They didn't know him as Neville the Forgetful, but as the owner of a useful journal. Neville got out of bed and went to take a quick shower so that he could settle into bed and worry about what he wanted to do as his next move.

This secret pen pal type exchange he had going made him feel open. As open as a book he left sitting out on a window's ledge. To say he'd been upset in the beginning was an understatement, but as time began to pass through that next week he starting thinking about how he could be _anyone_ inside his journal. He did not have to be weak, timid, and shy Neville Longbottom. This Mystery Reader did not ever have to know that he was just some meek little Gryffindor out of his element. He liked the idea. By Friday, he'd filled up several pages with sketches. Some of them of herbs and some of them of random things scattered about the school—because he remembered the first little set of comments that said he was talented. He put that to the test and found that he was able to replicate random objects if he truly set his mind to it. He drew his quill and bottle of ink. He drew the Divinations Tower.

As Friday evening rolled into sight he hurried up to the Seventh Floor corridor to drop of the book where he had the last two occurrences. Just as the time before, he wished he could stick around, but as the footfalls and chatting grew the more his heart beat against his ribs and the harder it was to tell his legs to resign going further down the passage and out of the line of sight.

On Saturday, they were all getting ready to head out to Hogsmeade. He'd be joining his party of companions—including Ginny and Hermione—during breakfast where they planned on heading into the village together. He happened upon Luna Lovegood, who'd been meandering through the Seventh floor corridor hallway as he had left through the entrance. "Morning, Neville," she said in her fanciful voice. Her bright eyes fell on his and she cocked her head to the side. "What are you doing?"

Neville had wanted to see if his notebook had been taken or left, but he didn't want her to see. He did not, however, wish to draw an attention to it, incase Luna felt it necessary to badger him about what it was doing left in the window. Then, he'd feel uncertain about leaving it there. Not to say, someone else couldn't stumble upon it and take it—rather than his Mystery Reader. Maybe Luna was the Mysterious Reader… He'd have to find out without drawing attention. He wanted to be able to keep his identity a secret. He knew that none of his Gryffinor Friends were the one taking it and writing, because they would have simply returned it.

Finally, Neville settled on a slight shrug of his shoulders and said, "I was just walking about before heading to Breakfast."

"Are you going to Hogsmeade?"

Neville nodded.

"We can walk there if you want."

"Erm… sure that sounds nice. I'd like that."

Neville's eyes travelled the length of the hall and towards the windows. From this far away he wouldn't be able to see if a small leather spine was poking out. He pressed his lips together firmly and suggested that they hurried to breakfast. "What were you doing up here anyway?"

"I was hoping to find someone to go to Hogsmeade with. I knew you wouldn't let me down." She gave a quaint smile and Neville nodded dumbly.

They two of them went down to the front hall and found that their party was already about to take off.

"Oh, Neville," Hermione said, "We can stay a little longer so that you can eat."

"It's fine. It really is. I missed out… My own fault really."

"There will be plenty of food in Hogsmeade. Let's get on already," Ginny piped up.

The three girls, along with Neville who trailed behind, took towards a fun filled day outside of Hogwarts. It was calm and relaxing out in the grounds and when they were on the trail to Hogsmeade they passed other students all hoping to have just as pleasant a time. Neville's first stop was at Honeydukes. He bought a sugar quill so that he could suck on that instead of ruining his actual good quill. He got some chocolate, just because he could.

They went from store to store. The vast majority of their shopping was done through the windows and inside they would touch the unbreakable, but hardly bought a thing. Hermione decided she wanted to go to a quaint little book shop and only Neville accompanied her. The other two girls went on to The Three Broomsticks where they promised to hold seats for them. Neville did not tag along because he had a book he wanted to buy, but he felt like taking a gander about the books pertaining to Herbology that were not the school's textbook. That way, he could add some more things to his journal—things to really impress the Mystery Reader.

He ended up grabbing two sizeable volumes one called _The Herb Grimoire_ and the other being called _Beauchene's Compendium Concerning the Properties of Rare Fungi. _Hermione had eyed his choice in recreational readings and given him a bright smile. The Old Witch at the counter had also given him a bright toothy grin and made comment on the books. "Not often we get a student after these books."

"I like Herbology… A lot in fact."

"I can see. I knew it was either that, or your mum wanted a copy."

Neville's face went red across the cheeks and the tips of his ears. "How much is it?"

She raised her finger to hold him there for a moment longer so she could go to the back. When she returned she had a small velvet bag. "Maybe you would like to plant this."

Neville's brow rose as he watched her open the top of the drawstring bag. She dumped an ample and nearly perfectly round bulb. "What is it?" he asked resignedly. He'd never seen a bulb quite like the one she held in her small hand. He was not keen on the idea of planting anything that might grow up to be dangerous.

Sadly, the old witch said, "I'm not quite certain. I still would like you to have it. If you could plant it and let me know how it turns out then I would very much appreciate it."

Neville checked over his shoulder to find Hermione's frizzy head poking out from over a short shelf. She wasn't close enough to have heard the conversation and he was leery. "I'm not so sure myself."

"Well, with these nifty little books you have then perhaps you can do some research. I'm no herbalist myself. I never cared for gardens. You can take the bulb and plant it or give it away. It's all the same to me, Dear." She dumped the bulb back into the velvet bag and Neville swallowed his reservations. He stuck his hand out for her to place the bag in and it felt warm on his palm. The woman only gave him another sweet smile, before telling him his total for the books he'd purchased.

He went to the front to wait on Hermione, feeling like the bulb was going to burn a hold through the velvet bag and in turn burn a hole in his trouser pocket.

Hermione left empty handed, but she said it was for the best. She would have bought too many things if she'd set her mind to it. She asked after his books and Neville was happy to show them off. They were thick and a little dusty, but they appeared rather old. All in all it had not been fruitless for him. He even had a bulb to plant if he put his mind to it. He was hoping that it would be mentioned in one of his books—though most likely not the one on Fungi. He failed to mention that strange exchange with the Old Witch to his friend and they entered the Three Broomsticks as if it had not happened and the only reminder being buried inside his pocket and out of view.

Φ

On the eve of Monday, Neville had managed to pry himself away from his new books and went to gather the journal that had led him to furthering his study in the field. All because he wanted to impress someone who didn't know who he was and might never find out. Wasn't that just the whole thrill of it though?

Up against the window, just as the previous week had foretold was his book. He picked it up from the sill and flipped eagerly towards the part where the pages were spaced unevenly from the constant opening and closing—while the back pages of the book were still nearly stuck together. Neville saw the picture of the Divinations tower towards the end of his ramblings and notes only to see that a window had been drawn and a tiny figure was scribbled inside of it with a line pointing and the word "ME" written beside it. Neville chuckled.

He took the journal back up to the Dormitory that was like a habit in the making.

Seamus and Dean were on the couch this time. Lavender was seated between Dean's legs—so Neville supposed whatever was going on there had been patched up, but he just gave a waning smile to them in passing.

_Well, I can't go to the Dungeons and hold your hand or anything like that, but I get what you mean. Snape can be a slave driver. Though, he's smart, which is admirable, I suppose. Either way, I'm a Sixth year. You're going to have fun come the O.W.L.s. I know a girl that passed out because she'd not been sleeping—just studying until she blew. You seem to have a reign on those plants of yours so I wouldn't much about Herbology if I were you. So, don't bother studying for that._

_I drew a picture for you. It's the Whomping Willow. I decided to save myself the embarrassment of letting you guess what it was. Know anything unique about it?_

Neville laughed a little more and turned the page to see the twisted tree with giant clubs for limbs. It was pretty good, and since he already knew what it was, he wasn't so sure if he wouldn't have been able to tell without the words stating it.

He heard Harry ask, "What's so funny in there, Neville?"

Neville pressed his knuckles to his lips and tried to stifle any more chuckles. "Nothing. I was reading."

"What could you be reading that's funny?" Ron asked.

Neville stared back down at his Journal and didn't answer.

Instead, he pulled up his bag and began to set to work in writing his reply. The words came quite easy. He wasn't worried about what he said, because, well, the Mystery Reader wouldn't know any better.

He began to draw a little students running away from the tree in terror.

**_I know you can't solve my problems in that class as easily as writing out how to get over anxiety for the teacher. Though, I wish it were that simple. I hope I don't get so bad over my O.W.L.s but on the off chance I do, there should be an herb in this journal that might revive me. _**

**_I really liked your picture by the way. It looks a lot like the Whomping Willow. I've added a little something to it. And, I liked what you added to my tower. _**

He put his quill and ink away and flipped between some of the older pages. From there he would have another whole week to pick out interesting plants and facts to add to the list and drawings. However, the more he looked at the Mystery Reader's responses the more he wished that he could have a journal of nothing but those. Nice words and small banter that didn't get him all flustered. He closed the journals leather cover and slipped it into his bag so that he might have it for some more recreational writings in class or while he ate. He typically spent his Tuesday evenings in the Green Houses. He would have to wait till then for a little more inspiration. He'd take one of his new books to show Prof. Sprout.


End file.
